[RP] The Shadowed Vaults

The Shadowed Vaults of Yrgath were a place of perpetual dread, a labyrinthine dungeon that stretched deep beneath the Nightqueen's Palace. The air was thick and stale, tinged with the metallic scent of rust and blood. As the characters awoke each day in their cells, the darkness was near absolute, broken only by the faint glow of phosphorescent moss clinging to the damp stone walls. The walls themselves, ancient and worn, bore the scars of centuries-old runes and carvings—dark symbols whose meanings were lost to time but emanated an unsettling energy.

Their cells were little more than crude alcoves carved into the stone, barely wide enough to stretch out. Iron bars, slick with moisture and patinaed with age, sealed them in. When the torches outside flickered dimly through the corridors, they cast elongated, wavering shadows that danced with a sinister life of their own. From somewhere within the vaults, a steady, rhythmic drip of water echoed, a maddening reminder of the endless days spent in darkness.

The scent of mold and decay permeated everything, mingling with the acrid odor of fear and sweat. Sometimes, the characters could hear faint scratching noises from behind the walls—skittering sounds that hinted at vermin, or worse, something alive lurking just out of sight. At intervals, guttural whispers would seem to drift through the corridors, spoken in tongues unknown to any living language. The whispers ebbed and flowed, like a sinister chant that reverberated in the stone, seeding nightmares in the minds of the prisoners.

From time to time, the Nightqueen’s gaolers would pass by—their forms obscured beneath black hoods, faces hidden except for glints of red eyes that peered from the shadows. They moved with eerie silence, the only sound betraying their presence being the soft jangle of keys and chains. The gaolers would slide food into the cells, mere scraps tossed onto the filthy ground, often crawling with insects. On rare occasions, they would pause to unlock a cell door, dragging out one of the prisoners who would never be seen again. The faint cries of agony and despair that followed haunted the nights, reinforcing the dread that permeated the vaults.

Outside the cells, the occasional sound of grinding stone and clanking chains hinted at the dark mechanisms that lay beyond—a network of traps, torture chambers, and sacrificial altars known only in whispered legend. The vaults themselves seemed to shift and breathe, passages sometimes changing subtly, as if the dungeon were a living entity, obeying the Nightqueen’s will. Those who stared too long into the darkness of the corridors would sometimes swear they saw faint glimmers of movement: ghostly forms slipping between shadows, or eyes glowing briefly before vanishing into the black.

Hope was a rare commodity here. The characters, imprisoned and stripped of their possessions, felt the oppressive weight of the dungeon crushing down on them. Yet, there was something else, too—a faint pulse within the stones, an ancient magic that thrummed beneath the surface, almost like the beating of a dark heart. It was a reminder that the dungeon was not merely a prison, but part of the Nightqueen's power itself. To escape these vaults would not only mean fighting past her minions but overcoming the very essence of her dark domain.

Before their escape, this was their world: a cycle of endless darkness, unnameable horrors, and the relentless grip of the Nightqueen's malevolence.

To Everyone

A low, resonant thud echoes through the vaults, the unmistakable beat of a distant wardrum. The gaolers nearby, if there are any, pause abruptly, their heads tilting in eerie unison as though listening to some unheard command. The drumbeat comes again, louder this time, a slow, steady rhythm that pulses through the stone walls like a heartbeat. It repeats, gaining strength with each strike, until it's clear that this signal is spreading through the Vaults. Whatever message it carries, it feels heavy with desperation and foreboding. Something ominous is about to unfold.

And risk the Nightqueen's Wrath? Unlikely. But you can always roll for it....

For Oral Fane and Mahluk:
You step into a vast, natural cavern, where the very floor is a sea of molten lava, glowing with a fierce, fiery intensity. The bright orange and red hues of the molten rock illuminate the entire space, casting the cavern walls in an eerie, pulsating glow. The air is thick with heat, and the oppressive warmth washes over you like a wave, making each breath feel labored.

Suspended above this seething river of lava, two long stone bridges hover precariously. Their ancient stone surfaces are dark and worn, etched with time and perhaps forgotten battles, stretching out over the molten expanse below. The bridges run parallel, each leading from the prison cells behind you to a distant ledge at the far side of the cavern. There, carved into the rock, is a massive door shaped like an open, gaping mouth, its wide, toothless grin both inviting and menacing.

Above the door, two large, round "eyes" stare down from the cavern's wall, each glowing brightly. The eyes are not natural; they are windows or balconies, carved into the stone like the watchful gaze of some ancient, monstrous face. Each "eye" is ablaze with the light of torches, their flickering flames illuminating the ledge and creating long, dancing shadows across the cavern walls.

The entire scene feels oppressive and foreboding, as though the very cavern is watching you, daring you to cross the bridges toward whatever waits beyond that ominous, gaping mouth.



For Hambul and Kruul
As you are resting in the archway that leads back to the dark corridor, movement across the great rock chamber catches your attention. Emerging onto a ledge connected to the far end of the cavern by the second stone bridge, you see a coppery skinned humanoid draped in some kind of magical cloak of shadows and a smaller(?) humanoid trying to stick to what few shadows remained. Feel free to describe yourselves in other ways.

Kruul and Hambul are on the left side (on the stone outcropping near the archway that leads back to the Vaults.)
Oral and Mahluk are on the right side (near the archway) that leads back to the vaults.

With a grunt of effort, Kruul grips the rim of the massive shield, his calloused fingers digging into the blackened metal. The shield, dark and warped from the heat of the cavern, groans as he begins to slide it toward him. Inch by inch, it moves, scraping against the stone floor with a heavy, metallic rasp. Even though it responds to his strength, Kruul can already tell this is no ordinary shield—it is colossal in size, easily as wide as an ox and just as thick, its surface marred by the searing touch of the flames that had claimed its owner.

He tries to lift it, his muscles straining, but the shield remains stubbornly rooted to the ground. The weight of it is staggering, far heavier than any shield he’s ever encountered. It feels more like a slab of iron than a warrior’s tool—as heavy as a horse, perhaps even more. Sweat beads on Kruul’s brow as he realizes that lifting it outright is impossible, not without some greater leverage or strength beyond even his considerable might.

Still, the shield seems to hold some kind of importance—its size and weight a testament to the power of the one who once wielded it. The charred leather enarmes, still attached to the inside of the shield, sway slightly as he shifts it, a reminder of the hulking warrior who had once carried this massive piece of armor into battle.

Kruul takes a step back, sizing up the formidable shield once more, wondering if there’s more to it than meets the eye. It might not be a weapon for him, but its very presence commands respect—and a nagging curiosity.

For Oral and Mahluk

As Mahluk steps onto the stone bridge, a sudden, sharp clicking noise reverberates through the cavern, followed by a brief, unsettling silence. Then, with a roar that shakes the very walls, two bursts of flame explode from the burning eyes above the door, each stream of fire racing down its own bridge.

The first torrent of flame surges toward Mahluk, hurtling down the span of the bridge he now stands upon. The fiery wave twists and writhes, its heat blistering the air as it barrels toward him with terrifying speed, threatening to consume everything in its path.

At the same time, a second jet of fire streaks across the parallel bridge. This inferno, equally fierce, is heading straight for Kruul, even though he hasn’t yet set foot on the bridge. Leaning over the edge, he can already feel the searing heat building, the flames bearing down on him, promising certain destruction if he doesn’t act quickly.

The two bridges are ablaze in a matter of moments, each one a river of roaring flames, cutting off any safe passage. The cavern is bathed in the orange glow of the fiery onslaught, casting long, flickering shadows against the jagged walls.

Mahluk, you have a chance to leap back onto the rock by making a Reflex save (test against the lower of Intelligence or Dexterity). Kruul, the same applies to you—leap back, or if you’re prepared to face the flames, let me know.

The deadly firestorms continue their relentless charge down the bridges, with the heat growing more intense by the second, threatening to consume both Mahluk and Kruul unless they act quickly.

For a brief moment, Kruul strains against the weight of the massive shield, his muscles tensing as he tries to lift it off the rock. The shield barely budges—its immense weight proving too much, even for his formidable strength. The heat from the approaching flames is nearly unbearable, and time is running out.

At the last possible moment, with a surge of effort, Kruul manages to heave the shield just enough to drag it with him. He leaps back from the bridge, pulling the colossal shield along as the roaring flames surge past, missing him by a fraction of a second. Both Kruul and the shield escape unharmed, though the heat still lingers in the air, a reminder of the danger that nearly claimed them.

With all the strength he can summon, Mahluk hurls himself away from the oncoming flames. His feet scramble against the uneven stone as he pushes back, but in his haste, he misjudges his step. His boot catches the edge of the black stone ledge where the bridge connects, sending him tumbling.

With a startled, anguished cry, Mahluk is engulfed in the roaring flames. The searing heat wraps around him, scorching his skin in a wave of agony. For a brief moment, the fire consumes him, his silhouette swallowed by the inferno. Then, with a desperate surge, he stumbles free, emerging from the blaze—singed, battered, but alive. He falls back onto the rough stone, his feet no longer on the bridge.

After the sudden surge of flame, the cavern falls eerily silent. The blazing eyes above the door, which moments ago spewed torrents of fire, have gone still once more. Their molten glow remains, but the deadly fire no longer shoots forward. The air is thick with the smell of smoke and scorched stone, the heat still radiating from the bridge, but the threat seems to have momentarily passed.

For now, the flames have receded, and the inferno no longer roars through the chamber. The glowing eyes above seem to watch, waiting, but whatever force had unleashed the fiery assault appears to be at rest—for now.

Oral, make a Wisdom test or Intelligence test to look around or search. Since you're a thief used to looking around for traps or things out of the ordinary, I'll let you make it with advantage.

Oral eyed the massive pumice stone, its porous surface offering plenty of handholds for climbing. He reached up, fingers slipping into the stone's natural grooves, and for a moment it seemed like the climb would be easy. The stone’s rough texture provided enough grip, and he began to pull himself upward.

But as soon as he applied his weight, the stone shifted beneath him, rocking precariously. Oral froze, his heart skipping a beat as the stone wobbled dangerously, its base unstable. He tried to steady himself, but the more pressure he applied, the more the pumice swayed. It was too light, far lighter than he’d anticipated for its size.

Realization dawned on him quickly—this wasn’t like the dense lavastone or basalt pillars nearby. Pumice, with all its size, was deceivingly buoyant, filled with air pockets that made it far too unstable to climb. One wrong move, and the entire stone could tip, sending him sprawling into the rocky ground below, or worse, into the path of another deadly flame burst, or even worse, the river of flowing lava beneath them.

Frustrated, Oral released his grip and dropped back to the ground, eyeing the massive stone with a mixture of irritation and caution. The stone, while large, simply wasn’t suitable for climbing. But perhaps its lightness could be turned to their advantage in another way.

Kruul placed his hands on the edge of the massive black iron shield, the sheer size of it still impressive even to him. He felt its weight but didn’t rush to lift it, knowing the key was in applying the right kind of strength. Hambul stepped up beside him, his eyes sharp and calculating, already judging the best angle to lend his assistance.

Without a word, Hambul placed his hands alongside Kruul’s, positioning himself just right. He glanced at Kruul and nodded—this was more about technique than sheer force.

With a quick count, the two moved in perfect sync. Their combined strength and clever positioning made lifting the shield much easier than either had anticipated. The iron groaned faintly, but under their coordinated effort, the shield began to rise smoothly off the ground. It felt almost natural, the burden lightened significantly by their teamwork.

Hambul used his agility and precise grip to steady the shield as Kruul’s raw strength powered the lift. Together, they hoisted it high enough to maneuver, and with ease, they carried it forward, the weight no longer a challenge.

The shield, once an imposing obstacle, was now securely in their hands. A shared glance between them said it all: working together had turned what seemed like a daunting task into something simple.

Kruul and Hambul hoisted the shield up together, their movements smooth and efficient. Once fully lifted, it became clear that the shield was not only massive but wide enough to cover both of them with room to spare. It offered an impressive span of protection, large enough to shield them from whatever fiery threat lay ahead.

As they adjusted their grips, they noticed the sturdy braces on the inside of the shield—perfect for carrying. Without hesitation, they each grabbed one of the braces, making it easier to hold steady as they moved. With the weight now balanced between them, the once-imposing shield was not only manageable, but they could carry it easily.

United under the broad iron shield, they were ready to face whatever the cavern threw at them next.

With the massive black iron shield securely in their hands, Kruul and Hambul exchanged a determined glance before stepping onto the stone bridge. The jagged edges of the cavern loomed around them, the oppressive heat of the lava below rising as they ventured forward. The shield, wide enough to cover them both, felt solid between them—its weight balanced by their shared effort.

As their boots struck the stone bridge, the cavern seemed to react. A loud, mechanical click echoed through the chamber, just like before. Kruul’s grip tightened on the shield as he braced for what was coming.

Without warning, the fiery eyes above the distant archway blazed to life once more. In an instant, two streams of flame erupted from the burning orbs, one shooting down each of the bridges with a deafening roar. The flames curled and twisted, the heat so intense it distorted the air around it, barreling toward the two warriors with terrifying speed.

Kruul and Hambul crouched behind the shield, positioning it to bear the brunt of the inferno. The dual jets of flame slammed into the iron shield with a fierce blast, their force pushing them back a step. The shield, heavy and wide, held firm against the searing onslaught, though both men felt the metal heat rapidly beneath their hands.

Sweat began to bead on their skin as the fire continued to roar over them, its intensity causing the shield to warm dangerously. Still, the iron barrier remained their salvation. The flames that would have incinerated them were deflected, leaving them untouched behind the blackened surface.

After what felt like an eternity, the flames ceased, the cavern falling into silence once more. The shield radiated heat, but it had done its job. Kruul and Hambul exchanged a quick nod, both impressed by the shield's resilience, even though it still thrummed with warmth from the fire’s fury.

Without wasting a moment, they rose from their defensive stance. Hambul led the way, shield held high, as Kruul followed close behind, eyes scanning the bridge for any sign of another trap. They moved cautiously, each step carrying them further along the bridge. The heat still clung to the air, but the momentary reprieve gave them the opportunity to press forward.

With the flames momentarily silenced, the two advanced carefully but steadily. The shield—now a glowing, warm barrier—remained between them and any future assaults from the blazing eyes above. The distance to the end of the bridge was shortening, but they knew the fiery assault could come again at any moment.

Each footfall echoed in the oppressive silence, their progress slow but deliberate. They were determined to make it across, using the shield as their only hope against the relentless danger of the cavern.

With a final, heavy step, Hambul and Kruul reached the stone pillar standing at the center of the vast, fiery cavern, their feet finally leaving the treacherous stone bridge behind. The shield, blackened and hot to the touch, had protected them well throughout their perilous journey. The relentless bursts of flame that had roared down upon them, one after the other, had been deflected with each surge. Despite the ferocity of the fiery assaults, the iron shield had proven a steadfast defense, allowing them to prevail against the onslaught.

Now, standing in the relative safety of the stone pillar’s shadow, they took in the sight of the remaining bridge. One final span of blackened stone stretched before them, leading to the ominous, gaping mouth portal carved into the distant wall. The flickering light of the lava cast eerie shadows around the room, and the roaring of the molten river below echoed faintly in their ears.

Both warriors, exhausted from their trek and the sheer intensity of the heat, felt a deep sense of relief and victory wash over them. They exchanged glances—Kruul’s face set in a determined grin, Hambul’s eyes sharp with satisfaction. They had made it this far. A moment of respite seemed well-earned.

Overcome by the strain of their journey and the crushing heat, the two took a brief moment to catch their breath, the sweat still clinging to their skin. The air around them was heavy, but here on the pillar, they felt shielded from immediate danger. The blazing eyes of the distant portal remained dormant for now, giving them the opportunity to rest (Page 40) if they chose, a well-deserved respite in the heart of danger.

Perhaps they could wait for Oral and Mahluk to cross their bridge as well, uniting with the other escapees before making the final push toward the mouth-shaped portal. Either way, the brief pause allowed them to savor the moment—the victory of having survived the flame—and to prepare for whatever might come next.

Oral and Mahluk hefted the large pumice boulder between them, each finding easy handholds in the stone’s porous surface. Though it appeared bulky, the rock was surprisingly light—far lighter than they had expected—and they were able to carry it with relative ease. The rough texture of the pumice gave them a steady grip, and the multitude of holes scattered across its surface allowed them to position their hands securely as they stepped onto the treacherous stone bridge.

As they advanced, the familiar mechanical click echoed through the cavern, a warning that the fiery eyes above the archway were about to unleash another deadly blast. Without hesitation, Oral and Mahluk braced themselves, positioning the pumice boulder between them and the flames.

A torrent of fire erupted from the glowing eyes, roaring down the length of the bridge toward them. The heat was intense, distorting the air with its searing force. But the pumice—formed by the ancient fires of the earth itself—held firm. The flames slammed into the porous stone, licking around its edges but unable to penetrate its resilient surface. The boulder’s natural flame resistance proved to be their salvation, absorbing the heat without crumbling under the fiery assault.

Oral and Mahluk, crouching low behind the boulder, felt the heat pressing against their skin but remained untouched by the flames. Slowly but steadily, they moved forward, inching their way across the bridge as the fire raged on. Each step brought them closer to the other side, the blazing light casting long shadows as the two figures pushed forward under the protection of their volcanic shield.

After what felt like an eternity, the flames subsided. Oral and Mahluk paused for a breath, the pumice still intact, its surface slightly warm but unharmed. The end of the bridge loomed ahead, the final stretch of their perilous journey within sight. With renewed determination, they lifted the pumice higher and pressed on, knowing the boulder would continue to shield them from the deadly flames.

Oral and Mahluk have now reached the pillar of rock in the center of the room, and the four escapees are finally united.

Rest
(Page 40)
All Characters Gain a Level
(Page 9)

We will continue in forum [RP] The Forsaken Halls.